Magic Works
by MintyWrites
Summary: The chronicles of John and Sherlocks' 7 years at Hogwarts. John is Sherlock's only friend, but John can't seem to make time for Sherlock between Quiddtich practices. But then Sherlock makes a new friend- a fellow Slytherin named Jim. Dribs and drabs- one chapter per year.


John was standing at platform 9 3/4 with his parents and older sister. He felt like he was in a dream- a month ago he was just another normal boy who played football and dreamed of being a doctor. His parents were shocked when he received his letter- they had never heard of magic- but after John begged and pleaded, they decided to let him go to Hogwarts. His mother had barely let go of him since they arrived at the station, and John was worried she wouldn't let him go so he could get on the train. But she did, and with barely any time to spare, John said his final goodbyes and jumped on the train.

He blushed nervously as he peered into the cabins as he passed through the cars. Most of them were full, but if not, they were occupied by older students, who intimidated John.

_Please let there be a seat left for me... and please don't make me sit next to a Slytherin..._

John didn't know much about the wizarding world, but he had heard from a shopkeeper at Diagon Alley that Slytherin was the house most associated with dark magic and mean-spirited students. John was already having trouble with the idea of making new friends in a brand-new environment, he didn't need the added trouble of unfriendly strangers.

Stepping into the last car, John sighed. _There must be an open seat somewhere..._

The first two cabins were full, the third had a snogging couple, and the fourth, a lanky, dark-haired, pale boy whose nose was stuck in a book sat alone. John stood there for a moment, nervous and unable to move. The boy was intimidating, with a cold, intent stare, and an unwelcoming posture.

_He must be a Slytherin._

John suddenly moved and began to step further through the car, but he heard the other boy's voice through the glass- "You can sit here if you want."

John hesitated. He sighed and opened the cabin door and plopped down across from the dark-haired boy. He could see that the book was titled _Advanced Potions,_ and he noticed that the boy was not wearing a house uniform, but the same Hogwarts robes that John himself wore.

"A-Are you a first year?" John stammered.

"Yes. Sherlock." He stated.

"What?" John blinked. Was that some kind of wizard term?

"That's my name. Sherlock Holmes."

"Oh! I'm John- John Watson."

Sherlock's gaze had not left his book.

"Your parents aren't wizards, are they?" Sherlock asked.

"No... how did you know that?"

"Most wizards would know the name Holmes." Sherlock finally looked up at John as he slipped a bookmark into his book and put it aside.

"Why's that? Are you famous or something?" John looked at him with wide eyes.

"My father is very high up in the Ministry of Magic- that's the wizard government- hardly a day goes by nowadays when his name isn't on the front page of the paper. Sometimes I'm in the photo underneath."

"Wow!" John had never met anyone famous. "So... do you have any brothers or sisters?" John tried to keep their conversation going.

"An older brother. He graduated from Hogwarts last year."

"What house was he in?"

"Slytherin."

John made a displeased face.

"Not all Slytherins are bad, you know." Sherlock said as he exhaled. "Just my brother."

"You don't like your brother?"

Sherlock turned to look out the window. "He always thinks he knows best... just because he's mummy's favorite... and father's got him all set up to be the next minister... You look up to your older sister though, don't you?" Sherlock glanced over at the blond boy.

"Yes... how did you know that?"

"Your pocket." Sherlock nodded at a piece of paper sticking out of John's robes. "I can see a crayon drawing, looks like it was done by a six year old, full of flowers and hearts, but the paper isn't bright white like it used to be, it's turned yellow, and it's crinkled. She obviously drew it for you years ago, and you've kept it all this time... you brought it on your first day to Hogwarts so you can remember her."

John blushed. He had no idea someone could tell all that just from a piece of paper. "Yeah, well, Harry and I are starting to grow apart a bit, but she's my sister."

"And your mum... she's very protective of you, and she spoils you sometimes."

"Yes..."

"And your dad, he doesn't spend much time with you, but he loves you."

"Yes."

John stared at Sherlock as if to ask him, _and how did you know all that?_

Sherlock sighed. "I can see the bag of sweets sticking out of your bag, it's tied with a ribbon, and there's a tag which says "remember to call home!" Only a mother would do that. And that gigantic watch you're wearing- it's obviously a man's watch, your father must have given it to you off his own wrist before you came here. Only a man who doesn't spend enough time with his son would give him his own watch."

"That was amazing," John exclaimed, his mouth hanging open. "How do you... how do you do that?"

"I observe," Sherlock looked down at his feet. "Most people don't think it's amazing."

"What do they think, then?"

"They think it's annoying, and they tell me to go bother someone else."

John dipped his head. The two boys sat in silence for a moment.

"So you said your dad is always in the news- is he up for election or something?"

"No, there was just a huge scandal- he was having an affair with the head auror."

John's expression turned to shock with a hint of disappointment. After a few seconds, he asked, "What's an auror?" He felt ashamed for asking, but Sherlock knew he was new to this world and all of its strange words.

"A wizard who tracks down and jails dark wizards. Kind of like... oh, what are they called... policemen."

"Wow." John was going to have a hard time keeping all these new words straight. "I can't believe you've been on the front page of the paper... I've made the local sports section a few times, but..."

"You wouldn't want to be in my family photo." Sherlock stated. "Mummy always insists I stand between her and father in the public photos, to show that Father has "family values." But once the photo's taken, they go back to ignoring me."

John froze. He didn't know what to say. Some of his friends from home had bad home lives but they never really talked about it.

"It's... It's okay." John stammered. "We're going to Hogwarts, and you won't have to see them for a long time."

Sherlock's expression grew warmer. "Thanks."

"So what house do you want to be in?" John inquired.

"Ravenclaw." Sherlock stated. "And let me guess- you want to be in Gryffindor."

John blushed. "Honestly I don't know what any of the houses are like, except Slytherin."

"Ravenclaws are witty and intelligent. They are quiet, but all knowing."

"Suits you well." John smiled.

"Gryffindors are courageous and strong-willed. Have you heard of Harry Potter?"

"Yes, I've heard a bit about him."

"He was a Gryffindor, and so were his two sidekicks."

"There's one more house, isn't there?"

"Yes, Hufflepuff. Hufflepuffs are loyal and fair."

"Yeah, I think I'd like to be a Gryffindor. It's too bad we aren't both suited for the same house though."

Sherlock blushed. He hadn't thought of that. He had just made a friend- someone he actually was interested in spending time with- and after today John would only know him as "that guy I met on the train."

Sherlock kept quiet. He had never had a real friend before, and he wasn't really sure how to reciprocate feelings of friendship.

They kept up a conversation about the basics of Hogwarts and wizarding. Sherlock taught John what the various classes were about, what quidditch was, and answered all of John's questions.

* * *

They soon arrived at Hogwarts. Sherlock, who begged the sorting hat to put him in Ravenclaw, was sorted into Slytherin, just like his big brother. Sherlock had to use all of his willpower to keep himself from throwing the stupid hat on the ground and storming off. He instead calmly handed the hat to the next student and strode over to the Slytherin table. He looked over to the crowd of unsorted students as he walked by, and saw John give him a positively outraged look. Sherlock reciprocated the look and found an empty seat at the end of the Slytherin table.

John was soon sorted into Gryffindor. Sherlock was happy for him, but part of him had wanted John to ask the hat to put him in Slytherin as well. He knew that would never have worked, though. John didn't belong in Slytherin.

* * *

Luckily, Sherlock and John shared a few classes. John had already made quite a few friends in Gryffindor, but Sherlock was focusing most of his socializing energy on sustaining his friendship with John. Sherlock would try to snag the seat next to John, but usually a Gryffindor would get to it first. _Go back to the Slytherin side of the room,_ they would say. _John doesn't want to sit next to some slimy haired twat. _John would tell them to shove off, though, and Sherlock would sit happily next to John, until the Gryffindors began pulling childish pranks on him during class. What's worse was that the Slytherins began to prank him as well, for cavorting with a Gryffindor. Soon Sherlock stopped trying. He would see John other times.

They would meet after class on the grounds. John would tell his friends he was getting tutored in Transfiguration- he really was awful at that class. They talked about everything- classes, friends, family- and sometimes they would just lie back and watch the clouds go by.

* * *

One day at lunch, John ran up to Sherlock with very good news. "I made the Quidditch team! Can you believe it? Me, a keeper!"

Sherlock gave John a congratulatory hug. "Wow, that's great, John... I guess I'll have to actually attend the games now."

John smiled at Sherlock. He opened his mouth to say something but he was interrupted by a few of his teammates.

"What are you doing with him, mate? Come on, we've got some plays to go over!" They led him away. Sherlock just stood there.

* * *

Sherlock began to spend all of his time outside of class in the potions lab. He wasn't technically allowed, but he didn't really care. John would occasionally come in and do homework while Sherlock worked, but most of the time Sherlock figured he was off practicing. Sherlock attended John's first few games. He would go up to John afterwards and tell him what a great job he did, and John would thank him for coming and supporting him, but his friends would tell him to shove off, they didn't want any fans from _Slytherin._ Sherlock decided it wasn't worth going after a few games, and he opted to spend game time taking advantage of the quiet common room.

* * *

When Christmas break came around, Sherlock begged John, "don't make me go home. I want to go to your house."

John had told Sherlock wonderful stories about his house. His loving parents, his warm and inviting extended family.

"I'm sorry, Sherlock, I can't. We're going to my aunt's for Christmas this year, and they've barely got enough room for the four of us as it is. I wish it were different."

Sherlock cried that night. He hated his family. His parents were obviously no longer in love with each other- in fact, quite the opposite- and if it weren't for his father's position they would break up. But, as father insisted, "the public needs a man whose wife will stand by him." What a load of bull. Sherlock couldn't believe how angry he was. And Mycroft would be there. He could just rip that snobby head right off.

So Sherlock opted to stay at Hogwarts. He roamed the empty halls, explored every passageway, climbed every tower. Normally he would love to be alone, but he felt empty without John beside him.

* * *

John and Sherlock sat on the grass near the Whomping Willow. It was starting to get warm, and John reminisced about summer.

"There's a pond near my house, with a rope swing and a dock." John told Sherlock. "My sister and I spend all day swimming and relaxing. And when we're all sunburnt and pruney, we go inside and play board games." John blushed. "That must sound so boring... muggle stuff."

"It sounds wonderful." Sherlock sighed. He was actually very interested in muggles, he had always wondered how people got on without magic.

"You could come, you know. To my house. This summer." John said hesitantly.

Sherlock's eyes widened. "Really? Did you ask your mum?"

"She said if I wanted to, a friend could come visit... not sure for how long. She really wants to meet one of my wizard friends, though. Well, a real wizard."

"You say that as if you're not a real wizard."

"Well, a wizard-born wizard. Like you."

Sherlock frowned slightly. "So why aren't you asking one of your Quidditch mates? Or did they all say no?"

John frowned. "I didn't ask them. I was never going to ask them. I want to invite you, Sherlock. God, I try to do something nice..."

"So that's what it is? You're only inviting me to be nice? Out of pity? Is that it- you're the only possible hope I have for a nice summer, so here you are with your olive branch, offering me a once in a lifetime opportunity?"

John's face had grown red and shiny with tears. "That is not what I meant, Sherlock!" He stood up and looked down at Sherlock, his face filled with anger. "But you know what? You are hopeless. I am your only friend. And now you've got nothing to do over the summer, because you're not invited." John picked up his bag and stomped away angrily.

Sherlock jumped up and began to shout after John. "John! No, come back! I'm sorry! Come back... John..."

Sherlock sat back down with a slump.

* * *

John did his best to avoid looking at Sherlock at all cost. He had invited Harvey, the seeker, to come to his house instead. Harvey gladly accepted.

Sherlock had spent the past month replaying the fight over and over in his mind. He wanted to forget it, but he couldn't. He tried to figure out what he could say to John to make him forgive him.

On the last day before summer break, he decided that he had nothing to lose and confronted him.

"John-" his name barely escaped his mouth, and John had already begun to walk away.

"John, wait. I'm sorry." Sherlock pleaded. "Hear me out. I never wanted to hurt you- I never wanted to make you cry. Please, John."

John stopped walking, but was still facing away from Sherlock.

"What."

Sherlock was shocked. He didn't think he'd get a response. It took a second for him to remember what he was going to say.

"John, I- I can never justify what I did. But I missed you so much. I missed talking to you, being with you... I couldn't stand going more than a day without seeing you. And when you invited me to your house, I was so happy, but there was a part of me that wondered whether I was your first choice, because it seemed like I was always your... third or fourth choice. I should have just kept my mouth shut, but-"

"Yeah, you should have."

John continued to walk away. Soon he had left the corridor and Sherlock was alone. He fell to the floor and sobbed.


End file.
